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Weaving || by Marc Isaac Potter


the entire morning 

was held in a basket, 

like the kind that would have been 

woven by my Aunt Carrie, 

my grandmother's sister. 

the basket was of an enchanting and 

exquisite design and construction, 

as though the 

weavings were 

colored exactly into 

the arms of people 

forming a supportive community 

earlier in the morning 

had been horrific : 

standing in the fog, 

waiting for my friend 

and his truck, 

before he arrived 

I experienced being 

in all directions at once 

until I thought 

I would stop existing 

Images Credit: ©PaintingValley


Marc Isaac Potter aka Marc Isaax Potter (we/they/them) is a differently-abled writer living in the San Francisco Bay Area. Their interests are blogging by email and zen. Their Twitter handle is @marcisaacpotter


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